Nandita To Nandini
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Faith, Hope, And DestinyChapter 22 free porn video
Amelia showed a stubborn streak as wide as the Strait of Gibraltar. She refused to listen to my suggestions she practice piano or singing. Instead, she concentrated single-mindedly on training Rufus. He was a devoted pupil, growing in leaps and bounds. The connection those two had was amazing.
She showed her stubborn streak when, some three weeks into my recovery, I was feeling randy. Amelia brushed off my advances.
“You’re not healthy enough,” she claimed, very seriously.
I disagreed. If I could get an erection, I was healthy enough, in my mind. She dismissed my logical arguments. I might have found it amusing, but, day by day, my concerns were growing. The attack had obviously been much more traumatic to Amelia’s psyche than to Rufus or me.
I consulted a child psychologist. She recommended I stop bugging Amelia and let her heal in her own way. If she didn’t improve in six months, I might then seek help for her. So I tried to stop bugging her.
We rolled into fall, a balmy, Californian fall. School resumed. I focused on movie projects and, pleasing me immensely, the media lost interest in us. Our drive was finally empty. We could grocery shop without being hassled.
When my birthday approached, I stopped waiting. I suggested to Amelia that all I wanted was for her to sing me a song. I was Machiavellian in my behavior, too. I complained about a lack of inspiration on my movie script. I complained about lacking the brightness and levity I needed to be creative. I even roped Peter into it, letting him comment to Amelia how unproductive I was because of my worry for her. It was all to no avail.
I wanted to hear Amelia laugh and giggle again. I wanted to see her running and playing with Rufus. I wanted the mischief back in her eyes. I wanted it so badly I ended up lying to her, something I’d never done.
Occasionally, it’s the simplest things that crack the wall and make the difference in life.
It was a late Saturday evening, almost two months after the incident. We were watching television. Rufus was asleep. He’d played most of the day with Amelia, and trained with her as well. Now over seventy-five pounds, he was all muscle and love and completely devoted to Amelia.
I settled my hand on Amelia’s leg and rubbed her thigh over the fashionable Pink sweatpants she was wearing, a Californian concession to still-balmy fall temperatures.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said casually.
Amelia’s reaction was immediate, concern flooding her beautiful eyes. “What’s wrong?”
With absolute seriousness, I told her, “I’m suffering from epididymal hypertension.”
She looked at me. “What’s epi ... epidi ... whatever that is hypertension?”
“Blue balls,” I told her seriously.
“What’s that?”
“It’s when a guy gets so horny for so long his testicles hurt.”
“That’s a lie,” she stated. “There’s no such thing.”
“There is,” I assured her. “It’s truly called ‘epididymal hypertension’.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Hand me your iPhone.”
“Where’s your phone?” she asked.
“I lost it somewhere.”
Amelia picked hers up from the couch next to her and handed it to me. I opened the browser and, after the third time trying to type on a miniscule keyboard, handed it back.
She studied the Wikipedia page. “Wow! It’s true!”
“Uh-huh. And I’m suffering badly, honey.”
Amelia glanced at me. It was a wondrous experience to see. She smiled! Then she giggled! My heart swelled and soared. With eyes as bright as they used to be, Amelia rose and settled astride my lap.
“So, you do need me,” she said.
“Of course I need you.”
“Not really. You haven’t let me do anything since the attack.”
I had a sudden revelation. All the times I’d told her no when she’d offered to help had been taken the wrong way. I’d lived on my own for so long, I didn’t think twice that Amelia might need to take care of me; that it might be validation of her importance in our relationship. Damn! I could be so stupid at times!
Then another revelation slammed into me; a blinding flash of clarity.
I knew. I knew why Amelia wasn’t singing. She was doing the only thing in her power to protect me, the only thing she could - sacrificing her voice! She was sacrificing something that was part of her soul; that makes her who she is - the achingly beautiful girl I so loved!
And I knew why. If being famous had brought harm to our door, threatened me, she was fading away to keep me safe. How hard must it be to give up so much? And she’d done it for me! Tears actually welled in my eyes. The love she must have for me took my breath away.
“You’re crying. Why?” she asked, wiping a tear under my eye with her finger.
“You did it to protect me, didn’t you?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Stopped singing.”
Amelia studied my eyes intently, and nodded.
I touched her cheek. “I can’t live without hearing your voice. It feeds my mind. It makes me happy. It makes me want to live, Amelia. I can’t live without your voice. Please, sing, for me.”
Smoky gray eyes stared into mine. She saw the truth and smiled slightly. In a soft, melodious voice, one I had missed like an addict his opiate, Amelia sang.
“Te regalo mi cinturaY mis labios para cuando quieras besar
Te regalo mi locura
Y las pocas neuronas que quedan ya Mis zapatos desteñidos
El diario en el que escribo
Te doy hasta mis suspiros
Pero no te vayas mas Porque eres tu mi sol
La fe con que vivo
La potencia de mi voz
Los pies con que camino
Eres tu amor
Mis ganas de reir
El adios que no sabre decir
Porque nunca podre vivir sin ti”
How did she know Spanish? I didn’t understand a word of the song, but the sentiment came through loud and clear. As if hearing me, she switched to English.
“If one day you decidedTo get away from here again
I would close every door
So you would never be able to leave. I’ll give you my silences
I’ll give you my nose
I’ll even give you my bones
But stay here. Because you are my sun
The faith that I live with,
The strength of my voice,
The feet that I walk with. You are, love,
My will to laugh,
The goodbye that I won’t be able to say
Because I’ll never be able to live without you.”
“My God, I missed you,” I sighed, my hair standing on end, my eyes still prickling with moisture. “What song was that?”
“Shakira’s Tú,” Amelia murmured.
She leaned in close enough for us to exchange breaths, smiled softly, eyes twinkling, and rubbed her nose against mine. “Eskimo kisses,” she whispered. Then, still astride my lap, Amelia kissed me.
Soft, warm lips touched mine. Peace settled over me, all my worries melting away. I reached up to hold her head, her hair silken. The subtle scent of orange blossoms wafted at me. Then her tongue touched my lips, a delicate taste. One of us moaned, or maybe both, and Amelia opened her mouth. I drowned.
Breaking the kiss, I looked at her. “Let’s go to bed.”
She smiled. “Kay.”
She led. I groped her succulent butt in those sweats, ‘Pink’ emblazoned on the rear. Amelia giggled and moved away. I couldn’t stop grinning.
Rufus jumped up and followed us, leaping onto the bed. I stopped Amelia before she reached the bed by reaching out and yanking her sweatpants down. Amelia laughed. I admired her panties; plain cotton and matching pink - pure Amelia.
She kicked the sweatpants off and slipped into bed, pulling the sheet over her. She watched as I undressed, smiling at me, eyes bright, expectant. When I joined her, she rolled towards me. We hugged.
Amelia shoved my shoulder, forcing me to roll onto my back. She rose and straddled my thighs. “You’re not well,” she said with a soft smile. “I’m going to take care of you.”
“I feel fine,” I told her.
“I thought you had blue balls.”
Grinning, I answered, “I do. I really, really do.”
Amelia laughed softly and touched my groin over my boxers. She smiled again when she felt my erection, rubbing it gently, suggestively.
“So this is what’s hurting?” she asked, giving my shaft a slight squeeze, her hand sliding down to cup my balls.
I nodded.
Shuffling up, she settled on my erection, her pink cotton panties bulging where her lush pussy pressed down. She leaned over, studied my eyes, and kissed me. Soft lips touched mine. A tongue teased my lips sending a pulse of excitement through me. Then her mouth opened. God I loved her kisses.
We kissed, tongues caressing, and took turns sucking lower lips, my erection strengthening. She felt it, hunching her pussy gently along my shaft, stroking me, building my anticipation.
The kiss ended. She sat up and said, “I love kissing you.”
Kneeling astride me, Amelia caressed my erection with her pussy, those sexy cotton panties stretching, then scrunching, a camel toe appearing and disappearing, her pubis plump and sexy, so ripe as it pooched out around my shaft.
Humping me slowly, she crossed her arms and drew her T-shirt up and off revealing her delicate breasts, dark pink areolae and small nipples. I couldn’t resist. Reaching up, I cupped each, perky perfection, supple yet youthfully firm. Amelia’s eyes softened.
She rose slightly and tugged at the waist of my boxers. Lifting my hips, Amelia pulled them down. I kicked them off. She settled her panty-clad pussy on my shaft and caressed the tip with her hand.
“Hello, Aziz,” she said.
“Who’s Aziz?”
“That’s the name I’ve picked for your penis.”
“Aziz? Why?”
She smiled. “It means mighty, and strong, and illustrious.” Her hand fondled me.
I laughed lightly. “Aziz it is.”
Amelia slipped her hand under my erection, still stroking it with her pussy. I throbbed. Precum leaked making her palm slippery.
“I like it when you get slippery,” she murmured. “It’s proof I turn you on.”
“You do, like no one else,” I confirmed, another soft pulse of pleasure hitting me at her gentle caress.
Amelia smiled. Looking at me and pressing my shaft up against her pussy, she said, “I’m horny.”
“Then you’d better take your panties off,” I encouraged. “If you don’t, they’re liable to get messy in a minute.” My erection swelled and strained.
She grinned. Moving off me, she tugged her soft cotton panties off. “Don’t move.”
Gloriously naked, she straddled me again. Her silken dark pubes hid nothing, sexy as heck. I watched as she settled onto my shaft, thick labia bulging seductively, spreading slowly, and finally hugging my shaft, her clitoris kissing me. Damn it was sexy!
A bead of clear precum oozed out when she stroked her pussy up my shaft. My crown lifted from my stomach, connected by a string of precum, when she slid back. I reached for her breasts and fondled; a soft squeeze, a tease of her areolae, and a light pinch of her small nipples. Amelia shuddered, her areolae stippling in arousal.
Rising up on her knees, she pressed the crown of my erection back, slipping it through her cleft, labia bulging. She moved her body in a side-to-side motion seating my tip at her entrance. From my position, I saw the sight of my helmet hugged by her pussy and it thrilled me. I was so thick compared to her, so huge, so long. My erection flexed at the excitement I felt. It looked like an impossible fit, yet I knew she could take me. Thrilling!
Her hand reached down to hold my shaft, obscuring the view.
“I want to watch,” I murmured, caressing her slender thighs.
Amelia smiled, removed her hand, and, with body movements only - side to side, up and down – worked my crown into her. A tight, very tight embrace squeezed me, so arousing. With just the crown penetrating her, the sight was even more arousing; a thick cock penetrating a still-young pussy. And then, Amelia, with gentle motions, slowly worked my erection into her, her labia edging down my shaft, warm, moist velvet surrounding me. I could picture my progress inside her, the depth into her body and it shook me with excitement. Slowly, ever so erotically, Amelia worked my cock into her, her labia gently coming to rest against my base. I was buried inside her, the tip of my cock pressing against the deepest part of her vagina.
I had to ask. “What does it feel like? How deep am I?”
Amelia looked down at herself. She pressed her lower stomach as if feeling me inside her, her fingers slowly rising. “Here. You’re this deep.”
I groaned. It was so damn arousing; me being so deep in her. My erection flexed hard.
“I felt that,” she murmured. “I’m so full of you, Mike. It feels like nothing else. I don’t know how to describe it. I just love having you inside me and stretching me.” She squeezed my cock with her pussy.
I groaned with pleasure at her tightness. And, looking at her, I admitted to myself, I loved the sight of me having sex with such a beautiful girl. My girl.
Amelia placed her hands on my stomach and rose, my shaft emerging, glistening, her labia desperately trying to cling to me. Just as the ridge of my crown emerged, she reversed, settling slowly, an exquisite sensation, an exquisite sight, and I was buried in her again. She repeated the move, rising, settling, and shuddering slightly when her clit dipped to rub against my shaft. Holding herself upright, Amelia fucked me, eyes closed, breathing deeply, rising, slick erection emerging, settling, clit dipping, taking me deep, her body trembling. It was an amazing experience, deeply sexy, intensely erotic; to be fucked by her so sensually, her vagina so, so tight.
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